


Jinxed

by ungoodpirate



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Boyd as Red X, Erica as Jinx, F/M, Fusion with Teen Titans, Teen Titans - Freeform, berica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1764837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ungoodpirate/pseuds/ungoodpirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm a jinx. Random chaos is in my nature. If I didn't let it out, I'd explode."</p>
<p>AKA</p>
<p>Erica and Boyd spend a night in after another day of superpower-ed theft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jinxed

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I like to headcanon different Teen Wolf fusions with other fandoms that we do like/have liked. This fic is a result of a not so serious fusion of Teen Wolf with the Cartoon Network show Teen Titans from the early 2000s. We focused on matching up personality types of the characters more than interpersonal connections so here Erica and Boyd are embodying powers of characters that never interacted in Teen Titans, but I spilled out some Berica feels nonetheless.

                Erica clasps the Tiffany bracelet around her wrist and leans back to admire the shine. She has about a full display case of jewelry dumped out on coffee table. There’s a clatter out on the fire escape, a moment later Boyd’s stepping in through the window, pulling off the mask emblazoned with red x.

                He observes her feet kicked up on a pile of gold and diamonds and raises a single, cool eyebrow. “You have fun today?”

                “Very sparkly fun,” Erica responds, red lips smiling wide.

                “Were you careful?” he asks.

                Erica rolls her eyes, flicks a curl over her shoulder. “I’m not in prison, am I?”

                “Not yet. But if you face is on the news…,” Boyd warns. He undoes his utility belt and lays it over the back of a chair.

                “Did you have a successful night, dear?” She says, putting on the performance of a TV 1950s housewife.

                Boyd places a marble statuette on the coffee table. Erica withdraws her feet and leans close to examine it.

                “This is it?” she says, jabbing her finger at it, making it wobble in its place.

                Boyd rushes to steady it. “Careful. That’s antique.”

                “I know. You haven’t shut up about it since the exhibit moved in at the museum. This is seriously worth five million?”

                “To the right black market buyer, yes.”

“Who knew the criminal rich were historians.”

                “I just think they like to have things that no one else does.”                 

                Boyd sits down next to Erica and tugs off his boots. Erica takes first chance when he sits up to climb onto his lap, straddling his legs. She wraps her hands over the back of his neck and pulls into a kiss.

                “Think about it,” Boyd whispers into her lips. “Five million. We can get a penthouse in New York, or a house in Hawaii.”

                “Think of all the clothes I can buy,” Erica teases back.

                “We could retire. Life the high life.”

                Erica instantly pulls back. “Retire?”

                “What’s so wrong with that?”

                “Babe, l’m Jinx. I’m a jinx.” He holds out a palm and a pink sparkle dances across it, hopping off and scorching a patch of the wall. “Random chaos is in my nature. If I didn’t let it out… I’d explode.”

                “We can control that,” Body says with a shrug.

                Erica pushes herself off Boyd’s lap, stumbling over her high heels as she steps well back from him.

                “Control?” She laughs, almost hysterical. “I don’t want to be controlled. Everyone’s always trying to control me. As a girl… as this…” She holds out both her hands the pink sparks flashing up towards the ceiling. The light fixture is hit and shatters, raining down shards of glass.

                Boyd’s on his feet, shielding his own head. “Erica!” he shouts, but he instantly silences at the sight of her – panting hard, fisting clenched tight shut in forced control, a cut on her cheek.

                “You’re bleeding,” he says softly. He steps forward like he’s afraid she going to either run off or attack like a frightened animal. She doesn’t move.

                Boyd brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, over the cut, wiping the blood away.

                “I’m not like you, Boyd,” she says. “I just can’t take off a suit and live a different life. This is me, all of me. I’m dangerous, and I’m always going to be dangerous, and I _want_ to be dangerous. If you can’t handle that…”

                “I can,” he assures her quickly. He cups her face and kisses her. She leans into him, wanting and hoping. Because she just heard what Boyd wanted… settling down, normalcy, easy living. Erica was none of those things and could never been them. She could only hope there was room, somewhere, for her.  



End file.
